Battle for Lordaeron
by Gulefritz
Summary: Lots of people died when the plague hit the lands of Lordaeron. Undead armies rose and ravaged the countryside, bringing death to the once mighty kingdom. But the people of Lordaeron are not ready to surrender just yet. Join in as we follow a group of survivors in their struggle and see them fight undead, forsaken and even humans, while they question their faith in the light.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello everyone, Gulefritz here with the first chapter of Battle for Lordaeron.  
This chapter will focus on the battle Capital City, the capital of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, that happened in between the end of the Human campaign and the start of the undead campaign of Warcraft 3: Reign of Chaos, and will continue on from that._

 _If you got any suggestion, anything important lorewise or anything else to say, please leave it in the reviews._

 _I will try to upload this when I am able to do so, but please bear with me as I just entered an examn period, and I am also trying to continue another story. (Got writers block on that one, and this has been an idea of mine for some time now, and want to see how it goes)_

 _The very purpose of this story is to tell the story of some lordaeronian survivors, but also a few battles we were never told in lore or gameplay. There might be some lorechanges here and there, nothing major, there might be some later, but I will ask you guys first._

It was years since the proud people of Lordaeron cheered the day their crown-prince returned to his homeland after his three-month long expedition to the icy continent of Northrend. The Prince had set sail with the most elite and most devout of the Lordaeron army and had used the Royal fleet to get there. With these he intended to destroy the one who wished to spread death and destruction upon the Kingdom of Lordaeron.

They played the trumpets, they rang the bells, they threw down rose petals on the path the prince walked. He had returned, returned to protect his people, returned to restore the eastern provinces to their former glory. That was the thought they had as they watched their prince walk the way into the throne room where his father, the old King Terenas II Menethil, waited his son and heir. Little did the people know of the betrayal they were about to face.

The betrayal was quick and shocking. Flanked by his Second-in-Command Captain Falric to the right, Lieutenant Marwyn. They went ahead and walked up the stairs leading to the balconies, because up the stairs waited their goals, the higher nobles of Lordaeron. These men were a mixture of the King's closest advisors and Generals who would lead the army against the enemy of Lordaeron.

Both Falric and Marwyn dropped their ceremonial halberds and pulled out two runeblades. Without warning both men charged the rooms of the palace, slaughtering the guards at the doors before breaking inside chamber, killing whatever nobleman was behind the door. Quick and efficient, the two men slaughtered the leaders of Tirisfal Glades, who resided inside of the Palace.

Both of the Knights, both blessed by the power of Frostmourne, would slowly raise the fallen guards and noblemen, all raised as warriors of Crown-Prince Arthas Menethil.

The betrayal of the two captains had a strong impact on the unity and strength of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, but their betrayal pales to what the crown-prince had done.

While the murdering happened, the old King had welcomed his son home. He had seen the clothing of his heir, the dark armor, the glowing blade, and his golden hair had turned white. But he had showed it all to the side. He had smiled when he saw his son kneel before him and opened his arms, ready to hug his offspring.

That is why Arthas's next move shocked the old King.

The prince had walked up to his smiling father and grabbed him by the throat.

"What is this? What are you doing my son?"

A shocked King Terenas asked as he looked into the cold green eyes of Arthas, his son. One look into those cold eyes and the King could see something was off.

Gone was the man he knew, the one he had raised from childhood into a holy warrior. The happy and proud man was gone and had been replaced with a cold and almost dead man. Tearing his eyes away from his son's eyes, he looked at the blade, but looked back to the eyes when Arthas spoke again.

"Succeeding you… Father"

The old king had no time to reply as then Arthas plunged Frostmourne into his father's chest. The place pierced the man straight through the hearth. King Terenas fell on his knees and tears fell down his cheeks. Murdered by his own blood. Where had he failed, where had he failed to see the corruption take hold in his son. He had failed as a father, and now he payed the price for it.

Arthas removed the blade and the old king collapsed on the ground. His body hit the floor and the crown of Lordaeron dropped. The prince picked it up and grinned. No longer would he be the prince of Lordaeron, but the King of the Damned. He put on the crown and raised his sword up into the air.

"This Kingdom shall fall, and from its ashes arise a new order that will change the very foundation of the world!"

With that the undead soldiers raised by Falric and Marwyn were let loose on the Capital City of Lordaeron. Soldiers, still looking like normal human soldiers, formed up into battalions and walked down to the gates leading to the city itself. They opened the doors and there stood the populace of the Capital. Without hesitation, the soldiers charged populace.

In the front of the soldiers walk Captain Marwyn with his blade in hand. He cuts down a lordaeronian guard and orders the undead forward.

"Kill them all in the name of King Arthas!"

Screams erupted, and civilians fled. The nearby knights tried to fend of the undead soldiers, but eventually failed, only bolstering the undead force. With time more Knights arrived, but they were unable to break the mass of undead soldiers. With time the knights were able to contain the mass of undead soldiers. They managed to push them back towards the palace, when Falric arrived.

The captain arrived and immediately raised his blade. The fallen people of Lordaeron, the very people the knights had tried to defend, raised from their positions. With unhuman strength they attacked the Knights with fist or other utensils they carried at their death.

The Knights of the Capitol were surrounded, but that is when something marvelous happened. Words had already made it to the Tirisfal Monastery and the Garrison city of Brill. Soldiers, armed with sword blessed by the light, charged down the streets into the undead blob. In the front ran the High-General of Tyr's Hand, Abbendis. He swung his hammer and crushed five undead with one blow.

From behind the High General, priests and clerics arrived. They chanted their spells and aided the soldiers of Lordaeron, giving their blessings to the guardians of Lordaeron. Some of the priests used their powers to heal the wounds of the soldiers, but a select few did what no one had seen been done before.

High Bishop Isillien of Hearthglen, normally a tutor of the Tirisfal priesthood was summoning waves of holy fire. The men shot their holy fires at the undead and the holy flames reduced the undead to nothing but a crisp.

The arrival of the men turned the tide for a while, pushing the undead back onto the stairs of the palace. The morale raised and the knights pushed on. With time they reached the royal chamber of the palace, at where they were all shocked.

There on the throne of Lordaeron sat the king. King Terenas Menethil was sitting on the throne of Lordaeron, but it was no longer the king they used to love. On the throne sat a weak and deformed man, one who had been raised by the use of necromancy. The now dead king raised from the throne and laughed before the people before him.

"You fools! You went straight into the trap of my son! His master is eternal! Give up now, give yourself to my son, and he will give you the strength of the damned!"

The soldiers of the Capital looked shocked and they did know what to do. The men were reluctant to move and some started to pale when they looked behind and above. On the balconies leading to the throne room stood raised soldiers with bows or crossbows and had them aimed at the soldiers down below.

"Traitor! We will never surrender! We will never bow down to those who seek to destroy us, those who try to destroy the light! Soldiers of Lordaeron! We will fight on against this heathen enemy!"

With that Isillien stormed forward and summoned the biggest flame of holy fire he ever could. He was joined by priests he had taught, and they incinerated the fallen king of lordaeron. King Terenas Menethil the Second of Lordaeron was burned by the Isillien and the clerics.

But what happened next shook all the lordaeron soldiers standing nearby, even giving Abbendis and Isillien chills running down their back.

Crown-Prince Arthas stepped out from the shadow and stood by his father. He was still wearing the crown of his father. His very presence made all the soldiers shiver with fear and dread. He smiled as he watched the corpse of his father burn before his very eyes. Slowly more undead soldiers arrived, coming down from the balconies.

"You wish to challenge me Bishop? And this is what you bring? You shall have your challenge! In the end, you will serve me!"

With that the undead archers above fired their bows into the living soldiers. Many arrows hit their marks, and many men fell before the arrows of the undead army. The soldiers were charged by raised guardsmen and knights. More and more fell on each side, but only one side shrunk in size.

Arthas raised the men who feel, even those who had been killed already. With time the King joined the fray. He swung Frostmourne around and struck down the soldiers before him. He raised his right hand and disaster struck the living soldiers.

The very knights and soldiers they had fought to reach the palace rose from their positions. They picked up their weapons and charged into the mass of living soldiers.

Just like that, Arthas had surrounded the army of living soldiers inside the capital. He had them where he wanted them and he slew them without problems. With time the undead soldiers put so much pressure on the soldiers, that they fell back.

Abbendis and Isillien saw what was happening and they both reached the same conclusion. They had to break out of the encirclement, or face annihilation. Isillien got his priests to aid him in summoning a barrier of Light to surround them. The undead were unable to breakthrough the shield.

The High-General moved the men around, having his most woundead soldiers face the palace and his strongest the way out. The clerics blessed the soldiers one last time, and he nodded to Isillien. With one single move, the old Bishop departed his hands and send out a wave of holy light. The wave killed the first three lines of undead soldiers, and blinded the rest. Even the Prince looked away for a moment.

High-General Abbendis used this moment of disillusion of the undead soldiers to charge forward straight into the ranks of the undead.

His men hit the undead with their weapons and smashed them to the side. The knights struck down their undead adversaries and brokethrough their lines. Soon a exit had been formed out into the city itself, and the men rushed through. Abbendis turned around to order his men facing Arthas to run, when he gasped at the sight.

All the men he had send there had been slaughtered by the Prince himself. He stood upon a pile made out of their corpses. He pointed Frostmourne at Abbendis and an arrow hit the general right in the back. Arthas walked forward, raising the blade, ready to strike down the High-General.

Knights of the Palace stormed through and intervened, while soldiers of Brill grabbed onto the High-General, pulling him backwards, out into the chaos that fallen onto the streets of the capitol. Fires had spread throughout the city and had lit up most of the capital of Lordaeron.

Through the fires of the capital, the people of Lordaeron ran through, seeking to get as far away from the undead as they possibly could. The raised archers of the palaced had formed lines on the inner walls of the palace and started to fire their arrows into the retreating army and civilians, killing even more with their accurate volleys.

Abbendis and Isillien managed to get out of the city with a fifth of the men they entered the city with. Both men could easily see where the situation was going and immediately ordered the mass retreat from Tirisfal Glade. They turned their army to the east and ran straight for the greenwoods of the middle of Lordaeron, straight for the cities of Hearthglen and Andorhall, where the latter was still being rebuilt.

The Silver Hand was still camped at Hearthglen, and if anyone needed to know of the prince's betrayal, it would be Uther the Lightbringer, Highlord of the Silver Hand. The army ran and with days they managed to reach the pass that would lead them into the green grassland of Andorhall.

Abbendis and Isillien had just passed into the woods, when the undead army caught up to the retreating column. The undead soldiers charged into the group of soldiers who were quick to form a defensive line. They were able to keep the undead at bay, but would need support if they were to reach the pass. Abbendis and Isillien heard of this and both of them shook their head.

Isillien turned to the messenger.

"Light have mercy on me for the decision I have to make for my countrymen. I leave their fate to the light. They fall so we can return with a zealous resolve! They fall so we can reclaim what Arthas has stolen from us!"

With that Abbendis ordered the army to move once more. All of them could hear the screams of their abandoned countrymen as they were attacked and surrounded by the undead army Arthas had massed inside the Capital.

Abbendis and Isillien simply turned their heads in the direction of Hearthglen and started marching. Their facial expressions told everything anyone needed to know, to see what both men were thinking.

Anger, fear and zealotry. Already now Isillien spoke of the divine punishment the light would send to hit Arthas, and that they must become the very soldiers of the light. They must all become holy warriors and strike down the enemy that had taken down their capital.

Isillien pointed out they would return and bring Arthas to justice. They would reforge the broken might of Lordaeron into a holy force of the light that would ride these plagued lands of all shadow, of everything unholy and wicked.

Immediately the fear on the men's faces disappeared and the entire column, only one eight of their initial force, marched on. They had suffered a devastating blow, but they would be back to rescue their homeland from the evil that had conquered it. On that day the Battle for Lordaeron had only just begun.

 _Well, tell me what you liked or disliked. Sorry for any grammar errors or misspelling of words. Until next time, see ya._


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello everyone, Gulefritz here with the 2** **nd chapter of Battle for Lordaeron.**

 **This chapter is longer than the first. This chapter is ment to explain what happened after the siege of the Capital and the start of the undead campaign in warcraft 3.**

 _The border between Tirisfal Glades and Silverpine Forest._

The loss of King Terenas Menethil the second was a great blow to the Kingdom of Lordaeron. In the time following the Battle for Capital City, Arthas has left the city to burn, taking most of the undead force he raised inside of the city with him to plunder the areas of Tirisfal Glade and the Silverpine Forest. He needed to bolster his forces before moving east into Andorhall.

The undead soldiers by now had started to rot. The living flesh of the freshly raised soldiers started to rot and fall off their bodies. Slowly but surely the last traces of their humanity were removed. The mere sight of these warriors scared most defenders who were stupid enough to try and fend of the undead horde.

The citizens of the northern part of Silverpine Forest fled south to the cities of Ambermill and Pyrewood. Words spread, and these cities started to fortify their homes for the oncoming army of death. Some tales even erupted, that the Archmage Arugal, who had taken up residence in Silverfang Keep, had started to work on a spell, a spell that would end the undead scourge.

If the rumor was true or not, the people did not care. They still fled as fast as their legs could carry them. With time the first refugees crossed the pass leading into Hillsbrad Foothills. Initially the guards at the pass stopped them, trying to get an insight into the situation, but when they were told the situation, were they unable to take in the betrayal of Crown-Prince Arthas.

It took some time before one of the soldiers finally pulled himself together and send a rider to the city of Tarren Mill. Lord Othmar Garithos was there with his forces. The lord had mobilized his forces to hunt down the last remnants of the orcs in the Alterac mountains but were now forced to face this new threat.

But the fate of the lord his army will be told another time.

While Arthas moved south, Lord Uther, Highlord of the Silver Hand, had led an assault on the Capital City. He had taken all the paladins and knights inside of Andorhall and marched on the city. The old highlord stormed forward and smashed any undead soldier that would dare to face the wrath of the Lightbringer.

The Knights of the Silver Hand slaughtered the undead forces. Their hammers smashed the heads of the ghouls, their swords cut down the necromancers who were trying to raise as many undead as they possibly could, and their armor defended them against the arrows that had killed so many days before.

With time the heavy armed knights reached the palace. Lord Uther kicked open the door leading into the throne room.

Inside the room waited an army of skeletons and necromancers. The knights were outnumbered, but they had the strength of their Highlord on their side, and most importantly, they had the light on their side. The soldiers charged forward, straight into the lines of waiting skeletons.

Their swords broke the foul magic that kept the skeletons walking, and soon they were reduces to nothing but piles of bones. The paladins broke through the lines of skeletons. The weapons the skeletons held broke on the shields held by the paladins. Uther personally started to swing his hammer around, killing all the necromancers one after one.

With time the knights cleared the room. They gathered all the undead warriors and necromancers and piled them outside the palace. When they were all piled, did they set them on fire, making sure the undead would never rise again, and the souls that once inhabited the bodies, would go free and join the light.

Meanwhile Uther gathered all the Paladins of the Silver Hand, and they started to consecrate the palace. Uther personally went to the old king's bedroom and took some of his belongings. For years he had prepared the tomb where the old king would lie the day he no longer could guide his people. Unfortunately, Uther could not burry the man's body, so he decided to put in the King's armor and his sword.

The knights gathered at the tomb where Uther put down the items. The tomb itself was placed below the throne room, where light would shine down upon it from above. The tomb rest on a large stone, which itself sits on stairs. Uther stepped back and turned around, looking at the knights below him, giving them a sad nod before turning back to the coffin.

"Today we part with you, King Terenas Menethil. I, personally, part with a friend. For seven decades you looked over us, guided us and made sure the people of Lordaeron prospered. You guided us through the horrors of the second war, you inspired us to fight the orcs, and we succeeded"

Uther paused and put a hand on the tomb.

"Now, we face a new threat. You were taken away from us, not from natural causes, but from betrayal, by your own kin. Arthas has with one move not only destroyed our homeland, but also ruined the name of the Menethils for all eternity"

Uther turned around and looked at the men behind him.

"Arthas expect us to cower before him. He expects all of his former homeland to bow down and serve him, or else he will make us. But we will not let this scourge defeat us. Lordaeron is our land! Lordaeron is for the land of the living, not the damned! We will destroy Arthas and liberate those damned souls he has stolen! For King Terenas!"

A loud roar erupted from the knight.

"For King Terenas!"

With that the Highlord ordered the men to evacuate the city. They had what they came for. While he had taken care of the ceremonial funeral, had the cleric Fairbanks and Paladin Renault Morgraine, son of Alexandros Morgraine, picked up the ashes of the burned king and sealed it inside an urn. Uther declared he would defend the urn until his death, how very true those words were.

Renault handed over the urn to Uther who smiled at the young knight.

"It is a shame your father could not be here tonight Renault. Normally I would have given this honor to him"

"Father's right hand is giving him trouble and has been since the siege of blackrock spire"

"Must have been quite the wound from picking up that thing. Even Fairbanks here are unable to cure it"

Renault let out a sigh.

"Father says he is happy, as it gives him more time with Darion and me. He did tell me though, that he would soon be out to serve the Kingdom once more"

Uther put a hand on the young Morgraine's shoulder.

"I am sure he did lad. I am happy your father sends you in his place. Now let's get going, we must be out of here before Arthas returns"

With that the Knights left the palace. They had only lost a few soldiers in the battle, but it still broke Uther's hearth to see his men die to something Arthas had created. He ordered the men to be burned, their armor salvaged and a cleric to give them the last goodbye.

The Knights and paladins left the city and not a minute to late. Fifteen minutes after the last knight had left the city, had Arthas reemerged from his ravaging of the Lordaeron countryside. The knights rushed east and managed to reach the bulwark before Arthas had caught up to them.

The bulwark was a series of hastly set up fortifications. Barricades had been set up and a few watch towers were in the making. Workers were working day and night, all with the intention of keeping the traitor prince within the lands of Tirisfal Glades.

Unfortunately for the workers, the King of the Damned did not like to be detained, and he has eyes and ears all over Lordaeron.

Five days after Uther and the knights passed the Bulwark, Arthas personally lead an army of undead warriors against the still constructing fortifications.

A cold fog had laid down around the Bulwark, reducing the visibility of the surrounding area. A few soldiers went to the top of the half-built towers but were unable to see anything. That was, when they spotted something dreadful.

Several undead warriors, stumbling forward, came out of the fog. All of the soldiers were walking as if they had no muscles in their arms, but they were still fully armed in Lordaeronian armor. A giant blob of battered blue and white armor with the twin-headed eagle on their chest. The soldier immediately ran to the nearest bell and started to alarm the bulwark.

"To arms! To arms! The undead are here! The undead are here!"

With that soldiers prepared themselves. Soldiers who were previously playing a game of dice suddenly stormed to the barricades. Soldiers who had not slept for ages and just fell to sleep bolted to the barricades. Lines of soldiers formed at the barricades, forming a long shield wall.

Unfortunately for the soldiers, their line was not thick. No more than two lines were they able to form, but they would fight with that they had.

Slowly the fog lifted, and the defenders could see the scale of the enemy they were fighting. The sight shocked most of the defenders, some even turned around, taking a few steps back. A dismounted knight noticed this and shook his head.

"Steady men! We are soldiers of Lordaeron and will fight for our homeland and for our people!"

Before the defenders stood an army of at least fifteen hundred strong. Right in front, riding a fallen horse, were Prince Arthas Menethil. The prince pointed his blade at the defenders. The defenders were no more than eighty men strong. The undead army rushed forward and charged straight into the lines. The force of eleven hundred undead smashed into the frontline and almost pushed them back.

But the line held, and the knights and soldiers started to push back the undead horde. Hand to hand fighting started and the soldiers cut down undead soldiers, only for them to fight on. One undead soldier lost his arm but kept on fighting as if nothing happened. When the soldier cut off the head, would be the moment the undead soldier fell to the ground.

"How do we kill these fiends!"

A nearby knight immediately yelled.

"I've fought with the Prince in Hearthglen. The undead would keep on rising until we killed the one who maintain-!"

Before the knight is able to end the sentence, would he be hit by an arrow to the head. Undead archers had arrived from the back and fired at the men in the line. The arrows hit the joins of the armor and pierced through. Soon enough the arrows hit more and more soldiers, and the eighty men were now just ten.

These ten men died a horribly but fast death. The undead soldiers cut them down as they were nothing. Soon enough eighty men and fifty undead lied on the ground.

Slowly enough, Arthas rode through the broken blockade. Arthas grinned and raised his right hand, and soon enough all the dead soldiers, undead and previously living soldiers stood up again. The newly raised soldiers picked up their weapons and joined the rank of the undead horde.

" _You were right. Your people are easier to defeat than expected"_

Arthas shook his head and sighed.

"To think I used to lead them into battle, and yet defeat them so easily, shows how pitiful the people of Lordaeron is"

An acolyte walked outside of the undead horde and walked up to the prince.

" _This acolyte brings word from my makers henchmen"_

"My lord. My lord asks you to the take caution when walking into Andorhal. We have agents in the land ready to aid you and our scouts tells us that Uther the Lightbringer has departed to sorrow hill. If you bring in the whole army, would his paladins surely find us, and it would be almost impossible to kill the Highlord"

The prince nodded and motioned for three knights to arrive. He turned around and looked at them.

"Falric take a third of the scourge and purge Silverpine of the living, Marwyn, take another third of the scourge and clear out the rest of Tirisfal Glade, and Baron Rivendare, take the last third and wait my summoning, before marching into Hearthglen, until then set up the cauldrons and plague the land"

All three knights nodded, and the prince turned towards the pass.

"It is time to visit an old friend"

With that Arthas set invincible into movement, riding into the pass joined by two acolytes. The prince rode into the hills of green land of Andorhal. He did not know where the acolytes were leading him, but he kept on following them, that was when he noticed who they lead him to.

There on a hill infront of him stood a dreadlord. Angered the Prince raised Frostmourne and rode forward.

"Mal'ganis! I do not know you survived but thi-"

The dreadlord raised his right claw at the prince.

"Calm yourself Prince Arthas. Like Mal'ganis I am a dreadlord. My name is Tichondrius, a lieutenant of Kil'jaeden"

" _My makers henchman"_

Arthas put down Frostmourne and nodded at the dreadlord. The dreadlord looked away from the death knight and looked over the land.

"My handing over the land to the scourge, have you completed your first test. Now begins the next phase of the master's plan. The cult of the damned needs to be reunified, and the Highlord of the Silver Hand needs to fall"

With that the prince turned around and rode out to complete the new task he had been given.

 _Days later in the shore city of Southshore._

Alexandros Morgraine had summoned clerics and paladin of the Silver Hand for a meeting in the tavern of Southshore. Originally the paladin had invited Uther, but the old Highlord were needed in the lands around Andorhal so he decided to stay behind.

Renault Morgraine walked into the tavern and there at the table sat some of the highest ranked members of the Silver Hand and Lordaeron army.

Alexandros Morgraine, paladin and second-in-command of Uther the Lightbringer after Saiden Dathrohan. He was sitting with a sealed iron box.

Abbot Fairbanks, personal friend of Alexandros and the two men usually fought and prayed together.

Brigitte Abbendis, daughter of High-General Abbendis who was busy organizing the forces of Tyr's Hand against the undead scourge.

High Bishop Isillien, tutor of the tirisfal priesthood and recently recovered from the battle of the Capital. He was the one who was the most displeased by this summon from Morgraine.

"I hope this is worth it Morgraine. Wasted time here could be used to destroy Arthas and his scourge"

Morgraine turned to the old bishop and smiled at him, giving him an reassuring look.

"Arthas and his scourge is the very reason I called all of you to this tavern"

Alexandros motioned for the iron box in front of him.

"As some of you might know, I picked up a crystal during the battle of Blackrock Spire. Today I have decided to show you the result of this crystal"

With that Alexandros put his hand on the table and pulled off his steel gauntlet. It would reveal a hand bandaged with old and dirty bandages. The paladin took off the bandages and the sight shocked all the men at the table, Renault almost vomited.

"My hand has been mangled and the light driven from it. If I touch it with the light will it hurt immensely and start to burn. But this crystal is the reason I brought you here"

Alexandros looks around at all of them. Isillien looks at the paladin with a skeptical look, considering the possibility that Alexandros is an agent of the Scourge in hiding.

"This crystal is the force of something pure shadow. It devours all life and corrupts it beyond repair, as my hand shows. I believe we should try to find the light's counterpart"

Alexandros put in a key and opened up the crate, showing it to all present.

"And I believe this crystal is key to find it"

Immediately Isillien slammed his hand against the table and pointed an accusing finger at Alexandros.

"How dare you Morgraine! How dare you compare the purity of the light with the vile corruption of the shadow. You are an agent of the scourge and most be destroyed, just like this crystal!"

With that the High Bishop send a strong wave of light into the crystal, but the result shocked all of the men nearby. The crystal absorbed the light and its immense shadow aura started to diminish. Isillien looked at the crystal, then over to Alexandros, then back to the crystal and send even more waves of light into the crystal.

All the other paladins and priests joined in on the purging of the crystal, even Renault. With time the shadow aura of the crystal were purged. Alexandros raised his hand and they all stopped. Morgraine could feel the strong and warm aura of the blade. It was as if it wanted him to touch it. against better judgement, Alexandros went forward and held the crystal with his mangled undead hand and a miracle happened.

The crystal purified his hand. His undead hand were healed and it went from being a black deformed undead hand to the normal strong living hand it used to be. He held the crystal and looked around at all of the persons present.

"Seems, brothers and sisters, we have found the Light's counterweight. From this crystal will we forge a weapon that will challenge Arthas and remove his scourge from Lordaeron. I will ride for Ironforge immediately, while I am gone Renault you are in charge of Darion"

Renault nodded and faked a smile.

"Once again I have to be the babysitter of that runt. If only the plague had taken him"

With that the men gathered their belongings and went their separate ways. All of them went to places where they could do most in the defence of Lordaeron, but in the coming days they would all get the devastating news, that would change the future of Lordaeron forever. They would hear of the death of Uther the Lightbringer.

 **With that I end the 2** **nd chapter of Battle for Lordaeron. In the next chapter we will be introduced to the survivors, but also see the formation of the Scarlet Crusade.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello everyone. Gulefritz here with chapter 3 of Battle for Lordaeron._

 _I got an question I would like for you to ask._

 _As I mentioned, I was considering making this an AU story. The AU element I want to introduce is the survival of Alexandros Morgraine. That he somehow survives Renault's attempt to kill him inside of Stratholme. But I would like to know if I should do that, or if I should keep the normal timeline. Please tell me what you would like to see._

 _Now, lets continue._

"It breaks my hearth to even look at you Arthas. Your father rules these lands for more than seventy years and you ruined it in less than a week."

The fallen knight grinned as he looked at the old paladin.

"Quite the chatter Uther, give me the urn and your death will be swift"

This angered the paladin a lot.

"What! This urn holds the ashes of your father! What did you intend to use it for? Piss on it one last time before you leave his kingdom to rot!?"

Arthas smiled and laughed

"I did not know what it contained but it does not matter, I will get it one way or another"

With that Arthas charged the old paladin. He raised frostmourne and swung out with a powerful blow at the paladin. Uther raised his hammer and the blade caught the shaft of the hammer. Uther pushed Arthas back and started to summon an aura of light around him.

"Light give me strength!"

Uther's body would start to shine with the light. Arthas covered his eyes a moment, the warmth of the light making the death knight feel sick. Uther struck out at his former pupil with his Warhammer. Arthas blocked the blow but soon regretted doing so. The blow was so hard he almost lost his footing. He jumped back, away from the range of the hammer.

Uther went on the offensive, swinging his hammer at Arthas, not allowing the fallen prince one moment of rest. The light amplified the paladins strikes and aided him in this battle against his former pupil.

"You will feel the light's retribution!"

Uther swung one more time and he broke the prince's defenses. The prince was unable to block the Warhammer and it struck him in the stomach, inches higher and it would have been lethal. The prince was sent flying back into a tree.

Arthas shook his head and felt fear, a first time in his entire life.

"So this is the wrath of the light. I was a fool to challenge him and now I pay for it"

" _No! You will defeat him, or all our work will be for nothing, the future I showed you nothing but a lie. Rise again and strike him down!"_

Arthas rose from the ground and brushed of the dust from his shoulder. The fallen knight almost looked unscathed, as if he had been hit by a novice he used to spar with at the palace. Frostmourne preserved the knight and almost no damage had been done to the knight. Arthas grinned and walked forward, raising his sword to strike out at Uther.

The battle raged on for hours. Both sides pushed forward and other moved back, only for the other to counterattack, pushing the former back. The battle would go on like this for a while, but something crucial for the outcome was beginning to get more and more evident.

While Uther were growing tired and losing his breath, were Arthas totally fine. The death knight felt as the blade kept him going. He could draw upon the strength of all the souls he had captured in his blade and it sustained him. He swung at Uther several times and each time he felt the strength of the paladin fall, slowly but surely draining him of all his strength.

And then it happened. Arthas swung hard and Uther lost the grip of his Warhammer. Uther, exhausted, fell on his knees and glared up at Arthas.

"I hope there is a certain place you in hell, Arthas!"

Arthas grinned and walked forward, stabbing Frostmourne through the hearth of his former teacher, through the hearth of a man he used to look upon as a family member. He enjoyed this moment. He lowered himself and whispered into the paladin's right ear.

"We may never know Uther. I intend to live forever"

With that Arthas pulled out the blade and the old paladin fell to the side, dead on the ground. Arthas went into his camp, which had been overrun by Baron Rivendare, and found the urn. He raised the fallen soldiers and left the camp.

It would be the last time Andorhall saw Prince Arthas for a long time.

The fall of the Lightbringer was a devastating blow to the people of Lordaeron. The old battle-hardened paladin had fought hard and had wielded the light in ways other paladins could only dream about, but the power of Frostmourne was too much for the old paladin to handle.

The loss of their Highlord shook the Silver Hand. The order was unable to push back the undead wherever they went and more of their soldiers fell to the advancing undead scourge. The order started to fortify their strongholds together with what remained of the Lordaeron army, which ment leaving the interior of Lordaeron to its fate.

And it was not a pleasant fate.

Arthas paved a way straight through Lordaeron and set up cauldrons all over the fields that used to provide food for the Kingdom. The cauldrons would spread the plague across the land, affecting trees, grass and wildlife alike. Everything started to rot and corruption grew inside and show outside on everything it touched. With time they turned Lordaeron into what would be known as the Plaguelands.

Arthas paved his way through Lordaeron and went east. He cut down anyone he meets and raised them for his undead scourge. He left small forces to hunt down the remaining humans, while he took the bulk of his army into Quel'thalas.

But the people that remained had not been broken into submission and were not ready to submit just yet.

A grand paladin Saiden Dathrohan of the Silver Hand had called for a meeting of all members inside of the fortified city of Tyr's Hand. Although it initially only went for the order, other people were also invited, here including the High-General of Tyr's Hand, Abbendis himself. He looked out at everyone present and sighed. The only remaining paladin who were not present, for obvious reasons, was Tirion the exile.

All the members had gathered inside the command room of the barracks inside of Tyr's Hand.

Saiden Dathrohan speaks out to the group.

"We face a much greater crisis than the second war could have brought us"

Everyone in the room nodded.

"The traitor prince has broken the army and scattered the hand. He fight with such savagery the orcs looks like weaklings. I am afraid we have to change our ways, if we are to fight Arthas and his scourge"

One of the paladins looked at Dathrohan and raised his arm. Dathrohan nodded and the paladin spoke up, it was Alexandros. Alexandros had recently returned from Ironforge, wielding a new blade instead of his usual Warhammer.

"What exactly do you propose Dathrohan?"

Everyone turned to look at the grand paladin.

"We have to unite both the people of Lordaeron, the military and the order of the Silver Hand. We must form a remnant of the former Kingdom, but not forsake our duty before the light and cleanse the lands of the undead, no matter the cost"

He paused for a moment, some of the paladins looking skeptical, especially Maxwell Tyrosus, while Bishop Isillien and High-General Abbendis looked pleased.

"I call for a union between everyone in this land. Every lordaeronian must unite and we will fight back against Arthas and his scourge. With blood we will reclaim Lordaeron and purge the land of his abominations"

With a motion of his hand, several people walked into the room, carrying banners, but not a banner seen before. The banner consisted of a red flame on a white background. Another banner besides it consisted of the Lordaeronian L, just with a red color instead.

"We will form a Crusade to destroy the scourge and rid ourselves of this shadow that has befallen our lands. We will form the Scarlet Crusade!"

The paladins at the table nodded, while Isillien and Abbenis clapped, joined in by some of the commanders inside of the room. With time the paladins joined in. it would be obvious they did not like to abandon the hand, but it was desperate times, and if this was what it demanded.

"Everyone in favor, raise their hand"

In the room sat all the paladins that had survived Arthas's advancing scourge, most notably Alexandros Morgraine and his oldest son Renault Morgraine. Others include Maxwell Tyrosus, Taelan Fordring and Aurius Rivendare, who despite his father has fallen to the scourge is willing to fight against the undead forces.

At first no one raised their hand but Isillien and Abbendis, but soon Alexandros Morgraine and Renault Morgraine raised their hands. With time most of the paladins lifted their hands. There were a majority for the formation and Saiden nodded.

"For the moment, I will take command of this order, but in the coming days will you all be summoned here again for further construction of this order, where we will elect our new leaders. Dismissed"

A week passed and the everyone present returned for a second meeting inside the command room of Tyr's Hand barracks. Several ranks had to be filled out and with time every important role had been taken by a person present in the room.

Leader of the crusade went to the Grand Paladin Saiden Dathrohan, who would take up the new title of Grand Crusader. He promised he would lead the crusade to victory against the undead scourge and do everything he possibly could to unite the scattered people of Lordaeron. In the upcoming days he would start to recruit and form what would become the elite of the Crusade, a branch called the Crimson Legion and declared he would lead an attack on Stratholme in the coming months.

Second in command went to the paladin Alexandros Morgraine. The paladin was promoted to the rank of Highlord and an order from Morgraine equaled an order from Dathrohan. The aura and strength of the highlord inspired most of the persons in the room, most of them knowing of his experience from the second war while others had seen the power of the Ashbringer.

The cleric Fairbanks had been given the rank of High Abbot. The cleric would lead the priesthood in their role against the undead. He would make sure they stayed as humble and compassionate as before the plague. He vowed he would try to be as uniting and inspiring as the old bishop Alonsus Faol who died a few weeks before the plague hit.

High General and leader of the Crusade's armed forces went for the High-General of the Lordaeron army, Abbendis of Tyr's Hand. Some of the other people in the room doubted him as the man seemed changed ever since the battle of Capital City. The man had turned more hot headed and brutal in his nature, gone was the tactical thinking general who lead the army of Lordaeron in the second war and left was an savage who Maxwell Tyrosus would say reminded him of Orgrim Doomhammer.

The last rank for the upper echelon would be a new rank made by the Grand Crusader himself, the rank of High Inquisitor. Many in the priesthood looked unsure when Saiden Dathrohan mentioned the rank and their uncertainty were not removed when the paladin explained why they needed the inquisitors.

"Corruption in our ranks is what drove us into this crisis. We need to make sure every member of our order is pure and has no dark motives"

The priesthood decided to remain silent, none of them wanted to take up that rank, with the exception of one of them.

Isillien raised himself from his chair and announced he would gladly take up the rank of High Inquisitor and would gladly lead the new inquisitors in their new responsibilities. After having witnessed the undead in the field and how they looked like humans when recently raised, would the old man have several methods to root out any corruption.

Dathrohan nodded and asked out for anyone who would object against Isillien as High Inquisitor. No one in the room said anything and Dathrohan took it valid reason to give the old man the rank of High Inquisitor.

The last set of ranks would be the commanders. The people of the Lordaeron army would keep most of their former ranks, but new commanders had to be elected for the upcoming battles.

Saiden gathered a few of the young and old paladins and soldiers. Saiden pointed at the youngest of the paladins, Renault Morgraine.

"Renault, you will become a commander. Together with your father will the two of you take the fight to the undead forces here in the Eastern Plaguelands"

Renault looked to his father who smiled with pride and the man turned back to Dathrohan and bowed before the Grand Crusader.

"You will not regret this, Grand Crusader"

Saiden then turned to Maxwell Tyrosus.

"Maxwell, you will take a contingent and garrison Light's Hope chapel. The last thing we would want to happen is the area to fall to the corruption of the Scourge and the old knights of Lordaeron join the Scourge"

Maxwell would remain silent a moment before nodding at the Grand Crusader.

"As you wish, Dathrohan"

And last but not least Dathrohan turned to Taelan Fordring.

"Taelan Fordring. The betrayal of your father is not forgotten, but it will not affect your status here in the crusade. You will take Isillien to your family home of Mardenholde Keep inside of Hearthglen. You will fortify the city and lead attacks against the scourge in Andorhall. Got it"

Taelan would bow before the grand crusader, just like Renault did. He was determined to show himself before the Grand Crusader and he would prove that he is not a traitor to Lordaeron or the light.

With that Saiden Dathrohan dismissed them all and told them to send out words of the formation of the Scarlet Crusade. As timed passed all the scattered Lordaeronians, who had not reached the land of Hillsbrad, had somewhere else to go, to be safe. The cities of Hearthglen, Tyr's Hand and the last remaining stronghold of human power, the Tirisfal Monastery in Tirisfal glades joined the crusade. With these regions the crusade had strong defensive positions, and a lot of manpower flocked to their banners.

One of them would be the woman Aliya Lacrimosa. She originated from the city of Stratholme and had managed to avoid the Crown-Prince's purge of the city. She used to live in the city and dreams of the day the city would be ridden of the undead forces. She had taken up residence inside of Tyr's Hand after Arthas sacked the city, and when she one day saw recruiters from the crusade inside of the city, was she among the first to join the ranks of the Scarlet Crusade.

Through shear determination would she quickly rise from an simple initiate to one of the crusaders.

The initiation period starts out with a visit to the inquisition. Due to the earlyness Aliya joined the crusade would there not be any sufficient Inquisitor trained to take care of her, so she got the attention of the High Inquisitor himself.

The inquisiton was long, hard and painful. It was the first time she and everyone else in the room. The high inquisitor had many ways to bring out any shadow from the person, even if it did physical pain to the person.

After hours of pain did the inquisitor finally accept that the woman was free of corruption and released her from the retraints keeping her down. Aliya walked out of the room with a heavy limp and several wounds on her body, but she would not let it break her. She actually used it to fuel her conviction before the light, that this pain was necessary to remain pure in the light.

She quickly cleaned up the wounds and put on bandages before joining in on the physical work outside the barracks. There Commander Renault had gathered all the new initiates who the inquisitor had taken or had said he would do another time. Renault had armed them all with a sword and shield.

"In the crusade we fight like one unit! We fight in the shield wall and we need to be sure you can keep back the blows from the undead soldiers. Form two lines, shield in the front"

The initiates did as the young Morgraine commanded. They formed two lines of shields and waited for what the commander had in mind.

Renault is armed with the usual Warhammer of the Silver Hand. Aliya gulped as she could see where this was going. She bracer herself behind her shield and waited for the blow to come.

She did not wait long.

Renault stormed forward and swung out with the giant hammer. He hit the line in several places, and several places the men broke apart, falling back on the ground and flown back from the strikes of the young paladin. Renault reached her part of the line and swung the hammer.

But Aliya and those two beside her did not fall.

Their part of the shield wall held. Renault stopped a moment, clearly surprised by this. He striked out at them again, and once more they were able to hold back the assault from the young paladin. Renault held back on his attacks and looked at the initiates who were able to keep back his assault.

Renault went from right to left as he looked at them. He went to the first person, a man taller and older than Aliya. The man was so tall Renault had to look up to look at him. Renault probably believed this man was the one who contributed most to holding back the Commander.

"You, who are you?"

The man had a red beard and looked down at the smaller man but answered to him in a way you normally would answer an superior.

"My name is Alan sir! I come from the farmlands of Hearthglen sir"

"A farmer. And how come a peasant can keep back the blows from a Warhammer"

"I used to be part of the militia inside of Andorhall Sir! I helped keeping back the Orcs during the second war and fought the undead when the plague hit the lands sir!"

Renault looked the man over and got an idea, mostly due to the size of the man. Alan turned out to be an almost two-meter-tall soldier. Renault went to the armory and got a weapon from inside. He walked back to the waiting soldiers and handed him a two handed sword.

"You are efficient in the shield wall, but we need men to destroy the undead aswell. Please, try and swing this sword"

Alan was unsure. He had never held a sword longer than a short sword and now he held a blade almost as long as himself. He hesitated for a moment. Renault grew annoyed from this.

"We do not have all day! Swing the damn blade at the shield wall"

The tall man nodded and turned around to look at the shield wall. He looked to where he stood before and decided to test it against the strong part of the wall. He raised the blade and tried to swing it in the same way Renault had swung the hammer at them before. It was clumsy but he managed to swing the blade without losing his footing.

And to Aliya's annoyance, the man hit hard.

He did hit with the same strength as Renault could do with his Warhammer, but the blow was still strong. They managed to keep their ground, but the blade hit them hard, almost forcing them backwards.

"I think we found a proper weapon for a man your size. Maintain it and you will strike down the undead like a hot knife through butter"

In the distance the sparring session was being witnessed from the Grand Crusader himself and he liked what he saw. Already now the people of Lordaeron showed some promise in the coming battle for Lordaeron. He turned to a man to his right.

"Commander Malor"

The commander immediately attended the Grand Crusader.

"Sir"

"How many men have we assigned for the Crimson legion"

The Commander looked through his papers on the clipboard he held.

"Two hundred and fifty men sir"

The grand crusader nodded before opening his mouth again.

"Add another twenty men, and tell Renault to give you the name of the one with the two-handed sword and those who actually held the line, when the commander attacked"

The commander looked at the grand crusader confused

"For what reason sir?"

The grand crusader laughed.

"I want them in the legion"

 _So, in this chapter we had the fall of Uther the Lightbringer and the formation of the Scarlet_

 _Crusade._

 _In this chapter we were introduced to two survivors we will follow in this story._

 _Next up is the battle for Stratholme._


	4. Chapter 4

**Gulefritz here with chapter 4 of Battle for Lordaeron.**

 **In this chapter we will see the Battle for Stratholme a battle happening before the fall of the Ashbringer.**

 **In this chapter will we be introduced to our third survivor, an old paladin of the Silver Hand.**

 **So far I plan to use the AU future of this chapter, which would be the case where Alexandros Morgraine survives Renault's attack.**

 **With that, lets get on with the show.**

An army of two hundred and seventy heavily armed men and women stands before the gate of Stratholme. Infront of them stands an old white bearded man with a giant Warhammer. The white bearded man is flanked by a man with a red beard in inquisitor clothing to his right. To his left stands a man who is still adorning a blue armor with the double headed eagle on his chest. The blue soldier is holding a blade that has such a strong aura around it, that most undead are blinded by it.

He was flanked by High Inquisitor Isillien and Highlord Alexandros Morgraine.

Saiden Dathrohan had found the strongest the crusade had to offer and formed a unit out of it. with these men the grand crusader intended to take on the hardest of foes and make an elite unit that would be a figurehead for all other units of the crusade. He intended for them to take on whatever hardship Arthas would throw at them, and they would destroy it.

And now came their first test. The city of Stratholme.

In the abandoning of the interior of Lordaeron, Stratholme had suffered greatly. Whatever remained of silver hand knights in the city had decided to barricade themselves inside the bastion in the western part of the city.

Meanwhile the scourge had returned to the city and ravaged the remaining human population still in the city. They did not find many, but they did find some who had survived Arthas's purge of the city.

The scourge inside of the city was led by an old baron of Lordaeron. Baron Rivendare, fallen father of Paladin Aurius Rivendare, had pledged himself to Arthas's scourge when the prince landed in Northern Lordaeron. He had been given a runeblade, just like Falric and Marwyn, given to him by the fallen prince personally.

For months the scourge had laid siege to the bastion within Stratholme, but none of their attempts had broken through the defences of the bastion.

One day a thousand undead stormed the bastion and struck at its door with hammer and axes. They managed to break into the bastion itself but the compact lines of the knights of the silver hand did not break.

Their morale was high and their armor strong.

Saiden knew of the situation within the city as days prior to his arrival a scout managed to sneak out of Stratholme in search of aid, an aid he received.

Saiden turned to look at Morgraine and Isillien and nodded at both of them.

"It is time to strike. High Inquistor you will follow me and a half of the men. Purge any undead and necromancer you see"

Isillien nodded and bowed before the grand crusader.

"As you wish"

Saiden then turned to Alexandros.

"Highlord. You will take the other half of the army. My army will clear King's Square and then go for Market Row. Your forces will strike the Festival Lane and from there move into Elder's Square. You are to secure Alonsus Faol's chapel. Understood?"

Alexandros nodded and turned around to order his men around.

"Crimson legion! We attack! Victory for the light!"

With that Saiden ordered the men forward and the crimson legion surged forward. the man charged with such zealotry, that no army in the past could compare to the crusaders. The only army coming close would be the army that spearheaded the attack on Blackrock spire.

The crusaders broke into the ruined city and were immediately meet by the fallen population of the city, led by several necromancers. One of the necromancers yelled out to one of the nearby acolytes.

"The living is here! Go and warn the baron!"

The crimson legion did not give the necromancers much time to prepare a defense. The army frontline raised their shields and bolted straight into the undead force. The soldiers cut into the mass of undead soldiers, and the undead retaliated.

It did not take long before both living and undead lied on the ground. Unfortunately for the crusade, were the necromancers quick to raise the dead again. Saiden saw this and yelled out to Isillien.

"Isillien! Purge those necromancers from our lands!"

The high inquisitor would immediately start to form a bolt of light and send it forward. the bolt hit one of the necromancers who would begin to burn from the impact. The high inquisitor smirked and started to summon his energies for another bolt.

Meanwhile at the front the power of the Ashbringer had come into view.

Alexandros struck down several undead with every swing of his blade. The sword cleaved several undead into pieces per strike, and the light from the blade burned the shadow magic keeping the undead together, leaving nothing but ashes behind.

The Highlord went on the offensive and carved a path straight through the undead mass. The Highlord left a pile of ash in his wake and was advancing on the necromancers who were trying to keep the undead forces together and raise them.

Alexandros reached the necromancers and cut them down the with his blade. Soon enough all the necromancers had been cut down and the reaction was immediate.

All newly raised undead soldiers fell apart. Skeletons who were fighting crusaders were reduced to nothing but a pile of bones. Ghouls who were leaping and biting through the armor of the crusaders broke down and were turned into a pile of rotten flesh.

The crusaders now outnumbered the raised undead soldiers and were quick to cut them down. The inquisitors went forward and immediately started to light the undead corpses on fire using the light.

The battle stopped, and Alexandros turned around to see the result of the battle. Out of the two hundred and seventy men, fifteen lied on the ground dead. The inquisitors were quick to separate the fallen from the living, salvaged the armor, and burned the corpses.

"With fire we show the greatest compassion to our fallen. With fire we allow their souls to go on to the light, with fire we make sure they are not trapped in their bodily shells, raised by the traitor prince"

Saiden Dathrohan calls out to Alexandros and points in the direction of Market's row.

"Alexandros take those with shields and the priests with you and take Market's row and from there move on to Alonsus Chapel. We expect the undead come from the gauntlet, so your task will be to hold back the undead advance"

Alexandros nodded and turned towards the soldiers with shields.

"You men with me! For Lordaeron!"

With that the Ashbringer and half of the scarlet crusaders present stormed forward. They crossed the gate leading into Market's row and were immediately met with an enormous army of undead soldiers. The undead were swarming in from the gauntlet, but the scarlet crusader stood strong. They formed a shield wall and Alexandros stood ready with the Ashbrnger in hand.

The undead army charged and hit the lines of the crusaders hard, even pushing them back a little. But a constant reinforcement of the shield wall was able to keep the line stable. Alexandros went into the fray and started to strike down undead after undead and the crusaders started to advance when one of the scourge traps sprung upon the army.

The portcullis fell when the army was in the middle of crossing, effectively capturing six crusaders, one of which was Aliya Lacrimosa. She barely managed to jump back before the portcullis hit the ground right in front of her. She looked around at all those who were captured, mostly men who were older than her.

One of them yelled out.

"Come on! lets get this portcullis up!"

Aliya nodded, and she put her hand on the portcullis together with people from both sides of it. they started to lift, when trouble hit from above.

Two nerubians had hid on top of the gatehouse, waiting for an opportunity for a fresh meal. Both jumped down and landed on top of two soldiers and knocked down the rest of them. Aliya could sit back and watch in horror as the nerubian grabbed the man's head with their arms and snapped their necks.

Both soldiers fell to the ground. Aliya watched as both men fell to the ground. Something snapped within her and she quickly rose from the ground. She rose from the ground and charged forward into one of the nerubians and managed to hit into the undead, going as far as to cut of two of its arms and cut straight into the neck of the undead, killing it immediately.

The three other soldiers were struggling with the other nerubian who were pushing the other soldiers around. It struck out with its arms and several men were hit of their footing. The nerubian went for a soldier and struck down its right hand, the boned arm breaking through the armor of the man's chest piece, piercing his hearth.

The nerubian turned to Aliya and roared.

"For Azjul'nerub!"

The nerubian bolted forward and Aliya embraced herself for the blow. She jumped to the fight a few moments before the nerubian would have hit her and hit it in the side. Enraged the nerubian slashed out and hit her across the chest, sending her flying back, landing in the arms of the still alive soldiers. She shook her head.

"Come on men! Let's kill this monstrosity!"

The three soldiers formed a shield wall. The enraged nerubian stormed forward and went headfirst into the shield wall. The shield wall broke, with the two men pushed to the side and Aliya being pinned underneath.

"Kill it! Kill it now!"

One of the men rushed to get back on their feet and struck into the undead as quick as possible. One managed to pierce the back of the undead, while the other cut into the arm holding Aliya down on the ground. She managed to get her sword hand free from underneath the undead. The push had struck the sword of her hand, but it was now free again. She gripped the sword and struck into the nerubian, piercing its neck, killing it instantly.

The nerubian collapsed. The undead fell upon Aliya pinning her to the ground. The two men who were still alive went and pushed the nerubian from her. They gave her a hand and helped her up from the ground. The moment Aliya got back on her feet, did something strange happen.

The portcullis raised. All three of them looked around and figured out how.

One of the soldiers nearby had climbed through a broken building and used a hammer to break into the gatehouse. The soldier cleared the gatehouse of undead and raised the portcullis, letting the trapped soldiers out.

The soldiers at King's square stormed through the gate and joined the Ashbringer at the frontline. Alexandros had managed to break the undead lines and now they pushed forward. Alexandros smiled as he could see his goal. Alonsus's Chapel.

The building used to be the place where Alonsus Faol, Archbishop of the Church of the Holy Light, used to preach. His prayers always filled the chapel and the old man were a uniting figure for the lordaeron people. His death was a bad omen by the lordaeronian people, and no more than two weeks after his death, did the plague hit the city of Andorhall.

And now the living would recapture the chapel.

The undead was fleeing from the crusaders. Their foul master had recalled them into the gauntlet. The crusaders laid chase and cut down as many as they possibly could. The living was able to cut down another two hundred undead. In the Ashbringer's push, had only fifteen solders fallen, counting the three inside of the gatehouse.

Meanwhile in another part of the city a more brutal battle had commenced.

Saiden Dathrohan had gathered the remaining soldiers, all armed with two handed weapons, mostly swords and war hammers. The grand crusader had also taken all of the inquisitors with him. The grand crusader had decided to go on the offensive, and the men behind him were struggling to catch up to their leader.

The lines of crusader sprinted as fast as they could and they joined the grand crusader in the battle.

Crusader Alan was amongst the men who sprinted to Dathrohan's side. The crusader, still armed with the two-handed sword handed to him by Renault, stormed straight into the undead mass. He tripped several undead and cut down multiple per swing.

He took several strikes to the body. A ghoul managed to bite into his left arm and would have taken the whole arm, had a crusader behind him not cut down the ghoul before further damage could be done.

Alan looked to the side and noticed the one who came to his aid was a man younger than himself, barely past his teens. He nodded and turned back to the battle ahead, jumping into the fray again.

"For Lordaeron!"

The undead soldiers were cut down by the crusaders. The undead were cut in half or smashed to the side. Soon enough, the undead forces, smaller than that the Ashbringer was facing, shrunk in size.

Then disaster struck.

A burning building broke apart and fell down on both the living and the dead. The broken building blocked the way and captured several soldiers, most notably the grand crusader himself. The men gathered at the building.

"Get him out from there!"

Saiden Dathrohan looked around and saw that the road was blocked. He was unable to get back to his men, so he turned to face the undead, but most of the undead were down as well. The old paladin looked around and noticed no undead were coming at him, in fact nothing was near him.

No undead, no human, even the sounds of battle were gone. Saiden could feel a strong shadow aura but did now where it came from, not before it was too late.

A shadow had formed behind the grand crusader without him noticing it. the shadow manifested into a demon. This demon was tall, had long dark bat like wings and his hand had long, sharp claws. His head had long black horns as well. The demon laughed and grabbed the crusader with his right claw, starting to drain the power out of the grand crusader.

The demon grinned.

"My name is Balnazzar. I am a nathrezim, an agent of the Burning Legion sent to sow chaos in your lands. I am going to kill you and posses your body. I am going to lead your small crusade and you will watch as I destroy all you cared for"

With that Balnazzar blasted Saiden's head with a strong shadow spell. The grand crusader screamed out of pain and could only feel as the light did not come to his aid. He felt as slowly he lost control of his body to this demon invader.

Saiden summoned one last spell and managed to free himself from the demon's grip.

"By the light I will purge you from Azeroth, you demon filth"

With that Saiden stormed forward and struck out at the demon. Balnazzar laughed and caught his Warhammer with one claw. He formed his left claw into a fist and struck the grand crusader, sending him flying backwards. He laughs as he watches the grand crusader fall back into a pile of rubble.

Balnazzar drops the grand crusaders Warhammer and rushes forward. the grand crusader forms one last spell and send it towards the dreadlord but is never able to send it against the demon.

"It has been interesting, but it is time for you to die!"

Balnazzar grabbed the grand crusader and blasted his body with a strong shadow spell. The spell brought the grand crusader to brink of death, the moment the dreadlord had been waiting for. Balnazzar picked up the near dead grand crusader and held him up with his right claw.

Suddenly Dathrohan fell to the ground, no longer held by Balnazzar's demonic claw. Balnazzar had vanished from the area. Saiden Dathrohan suddenly stood up and shook his head. He looked behind and walked over to his Warhammer.

But it was no longer Saiden Dathrohan, Grand Crusader of the Scarlet Crusade, who was in control of the paladin's body. His body had been reduced to nothing but a mere shell for the dreadlord Balnazzar, agent of the Burning Legion.

"Time to prepare this world for the legions return"

Meanwhile back at the frontline, the crusaders were still fighting the undead forces. Many did not know what to do now that their grand crusader was gone. Commander Malor noticed this and started to organize the men. The grand crusader may be gone but he was not ready to let the men inside the bastion suffer any longer.

"Ten soldiers will keep digging and guard this path to the Crusader Square, the rest of you, come with me, we got a bastion to save"

With that Malor the Zealous, commander of the Crimson Legion, stormed forward, followed by around eighty men. The men stormed into Crusader square and were immediately met by a large horde of undead soldiers.

The undeads were trying to breach the door into the citadel with a giant log. The crimson soldiers charged forward and hit the undead force in the back. The undead dropped the siege and turned around to face the new enemy from behind.

The defenders inside of the bastion noticed the undead dropped the siege. One of them looked outside and saw an army of humans in red armor, supported by priests burning undead with the light, right in front of their bastion, killing undead as if they were made out of butter.

The man turned to tell his commander what was happening, and the result was immediate. The soldiers inside of the bastion, armed with blue armor from the second war and a few knights of the Silver Hand, opened the bastion and stormed out of the bastion, joining in on the battle.

One of the paladins were armed with an armor made by lightforged steel. An armor that had a strong light aura. The paladin was an old paladin from the second war who had grown gray hair by now.

Like most of the other paladins of the hand, was the man armed with a two-handed Warhammer. His name is Gavinrad Brightbringer. The paladin led the remaining defenders in the battle of crusader square and soon enough the two sides of living soldiers meet in the middle of the square.

Commander Malor meet with Gavinrad in the middle of the square. Both men nodded and bowed before each other. Gavinrad is the first to speak.

"I do not recognize your face nor the standard your men are bearing. Please tell me, who is it that has come to my aid and saved my men from the undead army that has ravaged Stratholme"

Commander Malor looks over the paladin before looking at the soldiers he let in battle. In total they were fifteen soldiers. He looks back to Gavinrad.

"My name is Malor the Zealous. I am the commander of the Crimson Legion. We are a force, under the leadership of Grand Crusader Saiden Dathrohan, leader of the Scarlet Crusade. The Grand Crusader send us into this battle, both to save you and reclaim this city from the undead"

Gavinrad nodded and looked around before looking back to Malor, raising an eyebrow.

"I know who Saiden is and I do not spot him within your ranks. Where is he?"

Commander Malor is about to explain what happened to the grand crusader, when a loud voice yells from behind the army.

"I am right here Brightbringer"

The entire army turned around and there walked Saiden Dathrohan. He looked fresh, as if nothing had hit the man. He grinned as he walked up to crimson legion and smiled at Malor.

"You done well Commander. Now send word to the Ashbringer, tell him we have taken this part of the city and we now prepare to take the gauntlet"

Dathrohan then turned to Gavinrad.

"I am sure you have a lot of questions my friend. Bring all your men inside the bastion and I will explain it all"

Gavinrad nodded and followed the grand crusader into the bastion, together with his soldiers.

This would be the day Gavinrad Brightbringer joined the Scarlet Crusade, and the day the Crimson Legion claimed the bastion as their theater of operation for the campaigns in the Eastern Plagueland.

 **Now, that is chapter 4. Tell me what you liked or disliked and tell me if you want to see Alexandros dead or not.**


	5. Chapter 5

Weeks had passed since the Scarlets captured the city of Stratholme, and the situation had turned dire for the zealous crusaders.

The crusaders failed to capture the gauntlet with their initial assault, which left half of the city in the hands of Baron Rivendare and his undead forces. The baron had since then prepared his forces to push out the living from the city of Stratholme.

Alexandros had been called off to the city of Tyr's Hand to train the next group of crusaders. In his absence, Alexandros had placed a force of twenty crusaders at Alonsus Chapel under the leadership of the paladin Aurius Rivendare.

The forces of the living were able to keep the undead within the gauntlet, but a series of events would soon change the situation for all the living within the city of Stratholme.

Upon capturing Market Row and King's Square the crusaders were meet with a quite the sight. Survivors from the prince's culling and later undead attack walked out of their ruined houses and greeted the crimson soldiers. They went on and cheered them, hailing their supposed saviors.

But on the orders of Saiden Dathrohan and High Inquisitor Isillien were the surviving civilians brought before the Crimson Legion. The Grand crusader walked down to the surviving people and looked them over. He did not look happy. Meanwhile the High Inquisitor looked suspicious of the survivors, questioning how they could have survived for so long.

The grand crusader ordered the group of survivors into Crusader Square and surrounded the group with his own soldiers. Some of the survivors looked around, unsure of what is about to happen.

"In our fight against the undead most we always be on guard. Our enemy has taken on the shape of rotting undead. As our High Inquisitor has experienced, can the enemy take on the form of living people, due to the fact their flesh has not rotten yet"

Gasps came from the soldiers and the majority of them looked at the survivors in the middle of the group. All of them look fine and healthy, but it could be an undead trick. Saiden spoke again and pointed at the large group of survivors. Many of the people in the group looked scared and unsure what to think of these crimson soldiers.

"Only our enemy fears us. Only the wicked sees us as a threat. Look at these people, do they look like they see us as their friends? As their allies? Survivors? Ha, Arthas culled the city, Rivendare finished the job and now we clean up the mess"

With that Saiden lowered his hand and made an order that would forever scar the crusaders for the rest of their life. He ordered them to kill the heretics.

At first the Crusader's did not do as their leader commanded, but that soon changed when the High Inquisitor came into view. Isillien cursed at the men and striked out at one of those who had not followed the order and punished him with the light. The "weakling" as Isillien called him fell on his knees and could do nothing as the High Inquisitor burned him with the light.

"Watch what happen to those that defy the Crusade, to those who defy the Light! By the Light be purged from this world"

The poor crusader fell to the ground, his body turning ablaze from holy fire. The men looked on as one of their comrades burned and turned back to look at the supposed "survivors", who were looking at the scene in shock.

"Only the wicked fear us"

With that Crusader Alan stormed forward with the two-handed sword in hands, and cut down the nearest person, a child who were not older than ten. The people around him screamed and the mother fell to the ground, crying at her fallen child. Her cries were short, as another came from behind and cut her head clean off. It was Aliya who had done the deed.

With that the remaining crusaders stormed the "survivors" and more screams were heard. Soon enough their screams ended and the blood of the Stratholme survivors ran across Crusader's Square. All the crusaders looked at the work they had done for the light.

Saiden ordered the crusaders to place all of the bodies in a giant pile so they could burn the corpses. Once again, the majority of the men did nothing, but some of the men followed Saiden's orders immediately.

One of those were Alan and Aliya. Alan picked up the child he had killed in cold blood and slung him over his shoulder. He walked over to the mother and decided to drag her along.

"We did this for the Light. They were all enemies of the Light, enemies of Lordaeron"

Alan put down the two and lied them down on the ground. He turned around and immediately saw the one who had killed the mother, Aliya, drag another corpse to where the crusader had decided to form the pyre. He looked at her and nodded as he passed her. By now more had joined them, but some remained back.

The ones who stayed back glared at the crusaders who were picking up the dead. Alan sighed and continued to pick up the people. Isillien preached before the men making the pyre, talking loud enough for all in the square to hear.

"Remember the virtues men. Compassion, Honor and Tenacity. You showed these poor souls compassion by ending their lives before they could do anymore sin. You honor them now by preparing their funeral pyre and you show your tenacity by ignoring the guilt that has befallen your weaker brethren"

Isillien stated at the group who did nothing as he said the last part and sighed before looking back at the people forming the pyre. The High Inquisitor looked happy at the work they had done. They had purged all the heretics from Stratholme. This was a great victory.

Alan picked up the last of the dead, a young man, no more than nineteen. He slung the person over his shoulder and immediately something fell to the ground. He knelt down to pick up the item. It was a necklace with a picture at the end.

He put the corpse at the pyre and opened the necklace. Inside was a picture of a woman and a picture of a child. It had a text below the picture.

"My love and my kin. The two things that's worth everything to me" - James Blackriver

Alan shook his head and threw the necklace on the pyre. He looked around and found the child in the necklace but did not see the women. That is when someone tabs him on the shoulder.

It was the woman.

She stood before him, clad in crimson armor, just like he was. She smiled at him and nodded, before looking at the pyre. She saw where he had thrown the necklace and picked it up once more. She looked hearth broken, ready to break. He lowered down to hear and whispered in her ear.

"Do not let them see you like this. I am truly sorry for your loss, but do not show weakness before the Upper Echelon"

With that the women looked back at him and nodded. She turned around and went back to the group of crusaders. Saiden Dathrohan stepped forward and handed Alan a torch. The grand crusader looked at the crusader with a serious look and nodded at him.

"Do your duty before the Light"

Without hesitation Alan lowered the torch and lit the corpses on fire. He turned as Saiden spoke up, yelling out to all nearby.

"Today we have purged the weak from Stratholme! Today we have shown the light our determination and that we will not stop before anything or anyone! The Light wills it!"

"THE LIGHT WILLS IT!"

The Crusader roared, with exception of the group who did not participate in the slaughter and burning of the people. Saiden decided to walk back inside of the bastion, followed by Isillien. The Grand Crusader declared the two of them had a lot to discuss.

What was said never left the bastion, but the result was immediate. Half of the men who did not aid in on the slaughter were punished, reminded who they served, and demoted to the lowest rank possible.

The other half were decimated. Three days following the burning, it had been revealed that an assassination attempt on Isillien had happened, and some of those who defied Dathrohan had gotten into a fight with Aliya.

Dathrohan put his foot down and took every tenth man and smashed their chest in with his mighty war-hammer. Once more a pyre was made, and once more Isillien smirked. They were culling the weak for the greater good.

A lot of ranks needed to be filled in the wake of the executions and battles.

Immediately Alan and Aliya had been singled out for these ranks.

The man who swung first at the group of survivors were given the rank of Captain, given five men and were told to patrol the city of Stratholme on a regular basis. The mans skill with a two-handed had not gone unnoticed by the grand crusader, and were now testing him to see what exactly this crusader were capable of.

The second to swing her sword were awarded the rank of Sergeant-Verdone. Someone needed to train the men, make them into proper soldiers of the light, proper crusaders of the light. Isillien saw how quick Aliya joined in, how quickly she saw the light, and convinced Dathrohan to give her the rank.

With that the first week of Dathrohan's Stratholme campaign had passed, and it was about to turn for the worse for the crusaders.

One day everything seemed to go wrong for the Crusaders.

Scourge movement outside the city had started to concentrate around what is now known as plaguewood. The undead forces were preparing to attack the city, and the crusaders knew of it.

The day of their assault came, and it is a day that still horrifies most who survived the day.

Baron Rivendare started the assault by attacking the people at Alonsus's Chapel in full force. He saw Aurius and laughed.

"Time for you to rejoin your family"

The scourge pushed forward but the shield bearers held. The vast undead army tried to push, but the men were able to keep the undead within the small alleyway leading into the gauntlet. The old baron joined in on the battle and immediately cut down one of the twenty soldiers.

"Witness the might the Lich King has bestowed upon me!"

Battle ensued with a duel between Aurius and the Baron.

Outside an enormous force of undead, eight times that of the Crusaders within Stratholme, had gathered and were now ready to strike the city. The Crusaders prepared their barricades and formed their lines, when the nightmare came.

A loud scream was heard across the land, soldiers pressed their hands to their ears in vain to reduce the sound. The sound came from above and out of blue air a Necropolis arrived.

But it was no ordinary Necropolis. Naxxramas had come.

Arch-Lich Kel'Thuzad had risen the mighty fortress in the wast emptiness of Northrend, when he was still but a simple necromancer, from the fallen kingdom of Azjul'nerub. Inside the lich had started many horrors, many experiments and now he was ready to unleash it. He was ready to show these crusaders the might of Ner'Zhul.

Thousands of undeads joined the already vast undead forces. Death Knights lead the undead into the city and stormed the barricades. Their numbers were endless, their fear non-existing and their strength unmatched.

The crusaders cut down as many as they possibly could, but soon they were overwhelmed by the undead forces. The front Soldiers tried to retreat but were cut down by the advancing undead. The crusaders retreated inside of the city, fighting their way towards Crusader Square.

Unfortunately for the crusaders, this meant the road to Market's Row and this meant the people at Alonsus were now exposed. The undead stormed in the direction and Aurius saw it before it was too late. He summoned the light and managed to blind the undead forces around him. He ordered a retreat inside of Alonsus's Chapel where something interesting happened.

Aurius managed to enter the place with five people. They all prepared for the undead assault, but it never came. The undead tried to enter, but never managed to do so. It was as if something outside prevented them from going further physically.

Baron Rivendare growled. He yelled out for the people inside of the chapel.

"Hide in there as cornered dogs as you like but remember this! We will keep watch of this place. If any of you ever leave this Chapel, he or she will join the scourge!"

With that the Baron summoned his charger and rode it into battle. He commanded the undead forces from the gauntlet, leaving a hundred back to watch the chapel, and took the rest, atleast a thousand strong, and moved towards Crusader Square, hoping to cut the Crusaders off.

Unfortunately for him, the crusaders had already reached pathway leading into Crusader's Square. The baron prepared to lead an all-out assault on the pathway, when he was ordered to stop.

Kel'Thuzad had ordered him and his scourge to stop. He did not know why and disliked the idea, but if Kel'Thuzad decided to keep the human alive, then there is a reason behind it.

The Baron would leave the undead mass to roam the city, running around wild, while he would strike terror into the pockets of living in the plaguelands. He would return to Stratholme soon enough, but for now he had been ordered to ride out and search for the living.

Despite the losses of both men and ground were Saiden and Isillien still high in both morale and zealotry. they welcomed this challenge from the undead and prepared to strike back at their besiegers.

But it would be a strike without Isillien. Saiden had ordered the High Inquisitor to the west, telling him to prepare the west for what was to come, spreading the words of the crimson light. A guard of five veteran crusaders escorted the High Inquisitor and they all miraculously managed to slip out of undead held Stratholme.

Little did they know it set up by Kel'Thuzad and Saiden. Saiden needed the High Inquisitor away from the city for the next part of the dreadlord's plan, and Kel'Thuzad was happy to reduce the number of defenders inside of the city, who were now no more than a hundred and fifty strong and he would do anything Saiden said, if it ended as he had promised.

He had promised him the death of Alexandros Morgraine.

The paladin had been a thorn in the scourge's side ever since he crafted the Ashbringer. Wherever the paladin went, burned undead and cheering soldiers followed. The crusaders had given him the nickname, Scourge of the Scourge, as he slew them in thousands singlehandedly.

The lich had already started to make plans for the fallen knight. He intended to form a force of four riders and Alexandros would make a perfect fourth rider. He already had the three others.

But he had to wait. The Lich new he needed inside aid to kill the mighty Ashbringer and therefore waited for the signal Saiden would give him.

But that didn't matter. He would wait years if it meant he would get his fourth rider.


	6. Chapter 6

The green fields of Hearthglen and Andorhal were always a welcome sight. The lush fields were filled with life in the form of trees, bushes and of course crops. The lands were open for anyone who wished to make a living, be they hunters, farmers, bakers and more.

Alan smiled as he walked the road to Andorhal. He had departed the early day with his daughter, Estee. She sat atop a cart that he was pushing forward, filled to the brim with grains and other vegetables, to be distributed and sold in the city of Andorhal. He smiled at her, as she looked at him directly in the face.

"Are we there soon daddy?"

Alan laughed as he looked at her, smile on his face.

"Soon, northern light. Soon"

Northern light was a nickname he had given to his daughter. She was only twelve years old and she meant the world to him. She kept reminding him of his times in the south, the time he meet his wife and what will come, if he is just patient and tenacious. He sighed, remembering what happened a year ago.

He had received words that the family farm was doing poorly. Alan had lived in the rebuilt city of Stormwind since the second war, initially helping to rebuild the city, but later because he found his wife there. A baker from Stormwind. Elizabeth.

The two of them had gotten two children, Estee and Granis. He missed the days they were all together, when he walked in her bakery, trying to help with the baking but failing every time. He had wished to spend more time with them, to be there for them always, but the light did not will it.

The farm needed help, his father, Jonathan, was growing weaker by the day. He could barely push the cart by himself anymore, and the war had taken from them all horses and cows. He had no chance to move the heavy equipment by himself.

And so he had called his son for aid.

Alan tried to convince them all to go north, but Elizabeth was adamant on staying in Stormwind, atleast for the time being. She would come north, when the situation for the family farm had gone to the better. They decided to split for now, leaving Granis in the south and Estee coming with him to the north.

She enjoyed the north. Estee was never happy to work in the bakery but loved helping her father and grandfather in the field, cheering for them, giving them water and spreading seeds over the ground as they prepared the ground.

Alan shook his head as they entered the city of Andorhal. His family had an agreement with one of the houses in the city, House Ryland. He would give them a part of the grain and they would aid him bandits and thugs if needed. He walked to the town hall, looking for their banner. He found it, and stopped himself, looking at Estee.

"Estee, I need you to behave. We are about to meet House Ryland, our patrons. Do not talk unless addressed and let me lead the conversation, got it?"

He looked at her straight in the eyes and she nodded at him with a smile. It was her first time in Andorhal. Alan sighed and pushed the cart into the town square, stopping by the banner of House Ryland.

The old lord Ryland was there greeting him, with a smaller much younger person next to him.

"I see Jonathan send his young to deliver the grain this time. Is the old man to weak to deliver it himself?"

Lord Ryland spoke in a teasing voice and looked at the farmer and his daughter as they stopped before them. Alan looked at the lord, trying to smile at him.

"I am sorry sir, but my father is unable to push the cart by himself. We have no horses left since the war so I had to deliver it for him"

Alan went to begin and unload the grain, handing it over to a man with House Ryland's banner on his chest. He weighted the grain and put it onto a pile of grain. Estee went to push a sack of grain to the side of the cart, helping how much she could. Lord Ryland looked at Estee, smiling at her.

"So, who is the young princess?"

Alan looked up at Lord Ryland, then over to Estee who was looking back at him. He nodded at her, at which she looked over to the old lord.

"My name is Estee Atherton"

"Lord Ryland, you would do yourself to not forget his title or that of any nobleman"

A voice rings behind the old lord. It was the younger man besides the lord. Estee looked at him quickly looking to the ground again, lowly muttering.

"I am sorry"

Lord Ryland looked at the scene and sighed. He turned to the younger man, before looking back to Alan, who had just unloaded the last sack of grain, sweat forming on his forehead.

"This fine young man is my son, Atyrian Ryland. He is the next heir to House Ryland here in Andorhal"

Alan went to attention and bowed before the young man, an act that made the old lord smile, almost laugh.

"An honour, my name is Alansen Atherton. My family has been strong supporters of House Ryland and I hope this will continue for generations."

Atyrian simply nodded at the farmer.

"Ahh, yes. Your family provides grain, we provide security"

Silence ensued. Lord Ryland looks back to Alan.

"Is there anything else?"

Alansen hesitated a moment, before looking at the old lord. He nodded and opened his mouth to speak.

"My lord, I am here with an plea for aid"

Lord Ryland's smile vanished, clearly hearing the seriousness in the farmers voice.

"The war has ravaged the lands. We farmers are barely able to keep up our production. My family's tools are almost broken by now and we have no animals to work the field. If it stays like this, then I am afraid, we can't deliver on our end of the deal for much longer"

The old lord turned to look at Estee, then to the pile of grain. He sighed and shook his head.

"The war took a heavy price on all of us. We barely have anything left to give. I will see what I can do, but only because of the history between your father and I, and your service in the second war. Now, be off"

Alan bowed before the lord, Estee did the same, much to the amusement of the lord. Atyrian shook his head. Estee jumped onto the cart and the farmer pushed the cart, still loaded with vegetables, to the market.

"Well, that went well"

Estee looks to the ground, not looking at her father. He stops the chart and places his hand on her chin, making her look at him. He smiles at her.

"You did well. Now stop being sad or you will be pushing this crate"

He grinned and she smiled back at him. The two continued into he market and stopped at their usual spot. They were soon meet by the people who used to buy their goods. An elderly lady stopped by them and smiled at Estee.

"I see you brought the small one Alan. I remember when you were that size, always wanting to push the cart yourself"

Alan laughed at the old lady, finding some vegetabels in the cart, putting them into a bag.

"That's a long time ago misses Brightbringer. The usual I assume?"

She smiled at him and nodded before turning to Estee again.

"So, what is your name?"

Estee smiled at the old lady.

"Estee, Estee Atherton"

The old lady then points at Alansen, who is still putting vegetables into a bag.

"And you must be a big girl, helping your parents with their daily life. Where is misses Atherton"

Silence ensued and Estee looked to her father, who stopped packing the vegetables. He smiled at the old lady, still looking down at the ground.

"She is in Stormwind with our son. Haven't seen her for a year now"

The smile on Brightbringer's face fell and she looked at them with a sad expression.

"I am sorry to hear that dear"

Alansen sighed as he looked at her again.

"It is fine. We miss them, but atleast we know they are doing well. Sending letters and all. Luckily, mother knows how to read and write, so I can send something back to Stormwind"

With that Alansen finished packed the vegetables and handed it to misses Brightbringer, who handed him two silver in return. He raised his eyebrow, normally he only took one silver. She simply smiled at him.

"Buy something nice for Estee, as a sign of gratitude from me"

With that the old lady walked off with her bag of vegetables. Not much of note happened afterwards. A few people came to but vegetables or chat with the Athertons, mostly people who knew Alansen's father, Jonathan, all wanting to hear how the old farmer was doing.

"Don't worry. He will join us the next time we sell our wares"

Hours passed and a silence spread across Andorhal. Suddenly, people in the northern edges of the sprawling city began to cough and people started to fall onto the ground, unable to keep themselves walking.

Some of the people in the city started to develop a high fever, rending them unconscious almost immediately. Priests rushed in to see what was going on, to try and see if they could help. One priest put his hand on the head of an fallen young man who had fallen unconscious and showed no signs of living, no pulse, no breathing.

That's when the young man suddenly opened his eyes and bite the priest's arm. The priest fell back, only to be assaulted by the young man. The crowd tried to intervene but could do nothing. He simply continued his assault.

Soon enough the same happened to more people. Chaos spread inside the city and the people who had been full of life moments before, suddenly fell on the ground with a high fever, succumbing almost instantly. One thing in common, they all soon rose again, attacking anything living around them.

That's when the city came under attack from the south. A horde of ghouls and a trio of black roped old men entered the city.

"Quickly brethren, we must secure the city before the arrival of the prince"

Ghouls and zombies swarmed the city in a few hours. Chaos ensued and in the midst, fire began to spread. News of the spread and attack has not reached the market place yet, when Alansen sees the smoke from the fire.

"Whats going on?"

Suddenly a loud yell from Lord Ryland bells out, catching Alansen's attention.

"To arms sons and daughters of the Alliance! We are under attack! We will not let the dead take out city!"

With that Alansen saw as halberg wielding soldiers stormed forward, to the southern part of the city. The personal guard of House Ryland had been deployed. Meanwhile, he saw garrison troops run north, battling what looked like civilians. What in the name of the light is going on?

Alansen looked to the side as he felt something squeeze his hand. Estee was hugging his side and had taken hold of his hand. The farmer shook his head and suddenly went down to lift her up, keeping her close to his chest.

"Come on, lets get out of here"

Alansen ran down into the streets of Andorhal. He ran north-east, in the direction of the family farm. He had only gotten a few meters, when he saw what was happening. People were attacking one another, but he also watched how rotten creatures killed and started to devour the living. He looked into one street, finding people in purple casting some sort of spell just above the pile of dead villagers. Suddenly they all opened their eyes again and walked, as if they had never been damaged. An cultist spotted the farmer and pointed at him

The dead were walking again, and now they were after him.

He pressed Estee closer to his chest and started to run again. He jumped over carts, rocks and fallen people. He dodged arrows send by guardsmen trying to keep the undead at bay and he managed to dodge an undead claw, which would cut his throat open if hit.

It seemed like he was going to make it.

That's when catastrophe struck.

A wall came crashing down before him. A house had fallen, the fire had consumed all that kept the building standing. He halted just before the crashing building. He turned around, ready to run, but gasped at the sight before him.

Four undeads, all looking like they did in life, safe for whatever wound killed them, stood before him. He knew three of them. All friends of his childhood. He fell to his knee, as he looked at them, still holding Estee.

The group of undead camp closer.

"Daddy! Daddy I'm scared"

He tried to soothe her, but it was to no avail. He knew what would happen. It was but a matter of time. But he would not go down without at least some of a fight. He set Estee on the ground, forcing her to stand behind him. He then picked up a piece of burning wood. It was hot and he could feel his fingers burn, but he did not care.

"Do you want me fiends! Then come and get me!"

With that the farmer charged forward and bashed the first undead back. He swung again and the piece of burning wood made contact with the head of the second undead. He watched as both fell before the hits, thinking he had beat them.

He hadn't.

Seconds later, they rose again and walked over to him, faster than before. They raised their arms and formed their hands into fists and began to punch him. He tried to push them away, only to be punched or bitten by another one. Soon enough, he drew blood.

He let out one last battlecry and swung the piece of wood again.

"Nothing will take me away from my family! By lights will, you will fail!"

He struck and send one of the undead backwards. He kept them at bay with the burning piece of wood, but new he was not able to keep them back for much longer. He looked behind and saw Estee crying.

He had to keep fighting. For her, for his northern light. He swung again, and this time, the piece of wood his at the exact right angle, splitting the head open and killing the undead. Unfortunately, the wood broke aswell.

"Come and get me you fiends!"

He threw a rock at them, the rock hit the top of the head of one of them and made him fall backwards. He kept on throwing, trying to desperately keep them back.

That's when a miracle happened.

From behind, Lord Ryland had seen the situation Alansen had gotten into. He pushed some of the undead back with his poleaxe before ordering his men to clear the undead that attacked the farmer. The guardsmen soon enough cut down the undead.

The old lord walked to the farmer and helped him off. He smiled but it was a very quick one.

"Get out of town, get back to your family, now!"

Alansen could only nod and he picked up Estee before setting into a sprint. He looked behind and saw the forces of House Ryland form up to charge into the streets again, the young man among them. He wanted to help them, but he knew he could not.

He ran for the exit of the city. Fire had spread and the smoke rose high. Undead roamed the streets and he watched how the garrison were quickly overrun by the undead masses. He watched how every fallen soldier, bolstered the ranks of the undead army.

He cursed at them. He would make them pay for it.

He managed to get out of the northern gate, when he tripped, barely saving Estee from hitting the ground. He looked at her, trying to make sure if she was okay. He shook his head and looked behind him and gasped again.

A large undead force had gathered, a few archers of the garrison had been raised aswell. He could see them prepare their bows. He tried to shield Estee one more time.

That's when the second miracle of the day happened.

A warhorn was sounded to the north and sounds of hooves trambling could be heard aswell as the loud warcry.

"For Lordaeron! For King Terenas!"

Lordaeron knights rode by him. Swords in hand, they crashed into the mob of undead forces. Their steeds smashed the undead beneath them, their swords cutting their heads off. Soon enough, these knights were joined by footmen, all who ran by, shielding themselves from enemy arrows, Alansen included.

He looked around shocked. Where had they all come from. He looked up and his face meet that of the Crown-Prince of Lordaeron. Prince Arthas had come to save the city of Andorhal. He took the prince's hand, he didn't listen to his words. All he cared about, was getting out of Andorhal. All he cared about, was getting his northern light to safety.

This is where Alansen woke up from the dream. He looked about, he was in Stratholme, Crusader Square. He looked around him, he was surrounded by resting crusaders. He looked at the banners, almost expecting the lordaeron blue, and sighed when he saw the Scarlet red.

He missed the old days. He missed his wife and his son. He missed his northern light. He began to rearm, when he heard a sharp voice ahead of him. He looked to see none other than Aliya Lacrimosa.

"The Grand crusader has requested our presence brother, better not keep him waiting"

With that the woman turned around not even giving the half-naked crusader another glimse. He sighed and put on the rest of his clothes, before putting on the red mail armor and plate chest armor. He picked up his two-handed sword and sighed once more.

He was back in the living world, the real world. He rushed after Aliya, whatever Dathrohan wanted was important and he knew better than to let the Grand Crusader wait.


End file.
